


Breathe Easy

by tinyexistentialhouseplant



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cute Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gay, I Don't Even Know, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Strong Language, comfort i guess, i mean dan's in this fic, what did you expect?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:04:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyexistentialhouseplant/pseuds/tinyexistentialhouseplant
Summary: Dan’s plan for this year of university is simple enough. No friends, no relationships, no coming out. As he figured out in the past year, all of those things are just disasters waiting to happen. Apparently, though, the universe hates him. Because he’s going to end up in the one class that could ruin the whole damn plan.





	Breathe Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnightskydan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightskydan/gifts).



> hey there!  
> first things first, i really hope the fabulous person who i got in the exchange likes this fic. it’s a little more angsty that originally planned, but i’m pretty happy with it. i hope you love it, friend!  
> i really hope you guys like this fic, as i worked pretty hard on it. parts of it are ideas i have been working with for a while, while others are things that just kind of happened. i was super excited when i got my prompts as they were exactly the kind of things i want to write. writing this was kind of insane as things kept coming up, so i just want to thank the humans in charge of the exchange for being patient with me.
> 
> this fic has been beta read, yay! thank you to the wonderful @amazingmitchell on tumblr for doing that :)
> 
> small tw for a few lines that mention past physical abuse  
> if you're one of those people that likes to know if it's going to be a happy ending or if you need to grab the tissues, i put that answer in the end note. check there for your answer:)
> 
> without further ado, here's the fic you didn't know you needed in your life. i hope you enjoy.  
> remember to breathe easy♡

This was never the plan.  
But, in all honesty, when had Dan’s life ever gone as planned?  
The tragic nature of Dan’s unpredictable life aside, this is not how this year was supposed to go. The game plan was to go to University, take the least miserable courses possible, get a degree in philosophy and then go get a job doing something he didn’t hate (he doesn’t really know what the hell one does with a philosophy degree, it was just honestly one of the few courses that interested him). He was not supposed to take any classes where people would notice him: friends, relationships, and coming out are not what he needs right now. Those things were supposed to be off the table: three rules to a quiet, drama-less year. Although it’s not his first year at University, he hadn’t made any friends thus far, so not building friendships doesn’t seem like too big of a challenge. The goal was to just get through uni, nothing else. He would start his life after.  
But he supposes that wasn’t much of a plan, really. And since there was no solid plot in the first place, that’s probably how he ends up sitting in the back of an LGBT Literature course, pretending to listen to the lecture.  
It’s not that Dan is homophobic, no. Not even close.  
The problem is this is completely the opposite of the plan. It’s a small class, so people are noticing his existence. And he knows there are straight people in this goddamn class but he feels like people are assuming things and that makes his skin crawl.  
After all, he’s just coming to terms with his sexuality himself: he’s only been with two guys so far, and one was just a brief kiss on a dare when he was 16.  
He’s not sure how he ended up taking this course, really. All he remembers is someone telling him a literature course would be good for him and picking a random one off the list.  
Of course it has to be the one course that ruins his whole ‘no coming out’ rule. But whatever.  
He shakes his head, trying to clear his brain of regret. He knows he should be listening to something other than his racing thoughts and the distant pounding of the rain outside.  
There’s no point dwelling on his failed plans at this point.  
Though the class is halfway over, and he hasn’t taken any notes thus far. Why jump in half way? He attempts to ignore the guilt booming like thunder in his brain. When that fails as well, he takes a shot at listening to the lecture. Even without taking notes, something might stick in his mind and distract him from his thoughts. He tries to comprehend the lesson, but all he can focus on is the professor’s mis-buttoned shirt. And the fast, loud-ass typing of the guy next to him. He looks over, intending to tell him to ‘calm the hell down and record the lecture instead if you can’t type any fucking quieter’ but the words get caught in his throat. The boy with the loud keyboard and the carbon-black hair is looking at him already, with an expression like he’s trying to remember something. His fingers are still slamming against keys even though his eyes aren’t on the screen of his laptop. Dan doesn’t know what to say. After a good eternity of being frozen, eyes locked with noisy-typer, he turns back to stare at the teacher. He can feel eyes on him still, but his skin has stopped crawling. It’s been replaced with a crimson blush, and Dan shoves his face in his hands for a moment before he looks up to faux-listening for the rest of the class.

 

 

When the lecture ends, Dan looks over to the boy next to him for the second time. The guy is no longer looking at Dan, instead putting his computer into his bag. He pushes his black hair off of his forehead before turning back to meet Dan’s eyes again.  
“Hi there,” Dan says, surprised that he is able to pull the words from his throat but not surprised that the words come out squeaky and uneven.  
“Hey,” the boy responds and Dan grasps blindly for the right words. What is he supposed to say? Damn it, how does interacting with humans come easily to some people and not to him? Dan lets out a sigh of relief when the guy fills the silence.  
“Sorry I was looking at you during the lecture, I know I’m a little uh— anyway, I was just trying to figure out if you were okay. You looked kind of— upset? Frustrated? I don’t really know. Sorry, it was probably odd. I make the most awful first impressions.” His leg shakes and Dan wants to tell him that, as the most awkward person alive, he is not judging the other on any level whatsoever.  
“No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m alright. Thanks for the thought though.” Dan reaches to put his computer and shit into his bag before remembering he never got his things out in the first place. He tries to play it off, letting his fist fall on the desk in a weird manner, but he feels like his every fault is obvious.  
“Oh, okay. Good. I’m Phil, by the way. Probably should have started with that,” the boy, Phil, picks up his bag. As he pulls himself to his feet, Phil slings the strap of the satchel over his shoulder before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  
“Dan. I’m Dan,” Dan knows his voice still sounds wrong, too bumpy and not at quite the right pitch. He’s never been quite this bad at making someone’s acquaintance. And he’s pretty bad at talking to people.  
“Nice to meet you, Dan,” Phil grins. He looks like he’s about to add something, but instead turns on his heel to leave the class.  
Dan tries to replay the ideal plan in his head as he watches Phil leave: no friends, no friends, no friends. But the boy with the unnaturally dark hair and the flaming scarlett button-down looks exactly like the kind of person Dan would like to be friends with. He looks like the kind of person who would be much too busy to hang out with him, but he would be friends with anyway. Dan thinks Phil seems like the kind of guy, if they were friends, he would tease relentlessly but secretly be upset when the boy in the burning button up didn’t text back immediately. Dan thinks Phil looks like the kind of person he would break his no-friends rule for. But he has more self-discipline then that.  
Right?

 

It takes exactly four more lectures before Dan ruins the second part of his plans. So much for self-discipline.  
It’s not hard getting to know Phil. That’s the thing. Dan thought friendship would be like how it used to be, difficult to find and impossible to hold on to. But talking with Phil makes Dan think that maybe, just maybe, straying from the plan isn’t such a bad idea.  
When Phil asks if Dan wants to go get coffee and study sometime, Dan pretends the plan doesn’t exist. He accepts, hoping his reply doesn’t sound as ridiculously ecstatic as he feels.  
After class is over, Dan is putting away his things when he looks up to see Phil. He’s waiting patiently, leg shaking slightly.  
“Everything okay?” Dan tosses his book bag over his shoulder as he stands up, and raises an eyebrow questioningly at Phil.  
“Yeah, aren’t we going to go get coffee?”  
“Oh, now?” Dan asks.  
Dan is suddenly struck with the thought that there is the slightest possibility this could be a date. He doesn’t know if Phil is gay or bi or any variation of not straight, but they are in an LGBT Literature class together and the phrase “get coffee sometime” sounds way more date-like than if Phil had just said “hang out sometime.” Dan supposes Phil doesn’t give off an obviously homo vibe, but Dan’s never been one who’s great at guessing people’s sexuality status. And is gaydar even real?  
“Yeah! Is that okay?” Phil still sounds a tad nervous, but excitement blooms in his voice.  
“Sure,” Dan says through a grin. As they walk to the coffee shop, Dan doesn’t know what to say. It feels like this is his first conversation in the history of ever and he can’t find words. He is grateful when Phil says something.  
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”  
Dan can hear the smile in his voice.  
“I’m really not that interesting,” Dan responds.  
“Yes, you are! From what I’ve heard so far, anyway,” Phil looks over at Dan, beaming, “you can tell me anything you want.”  
Dan thinks for a moment.  
“Well, I’m a philosophy major.”  
“Interesting, I don’t know too much on the subject,” Phil says thoughtfully, and Dan is surprised, because Phil sounds genuinely interested.  
“Yeah. Not only is it interesting, but it also validates my impending existential crisis,” Dan explains. Phil looks unsure if he should laugh or not.  
“It happens to the best of us,” Phil’s voice is still kind, “though I suppose my crises are more of the creative block variety.”  
The corners of Dan’s mouth tip up at this and Phil comes to a stop. They’ve reached the coffee shop, and Phil opens the door open for Dan. A bell rings as they enter the shop: a place Dan has passed a thousand times but never gone inside. It has a lovely, cozy feel. After ordering their drinks, they sit at a table in the corner, and Dan can’t help but notice that Phil’s looking at him intently. Phil’s smile is more tongue than teeth, but to be honest, he might have the softest smile Dan has ever seen. He has the kind of grin that makes it hard for you to not do the same.  
“So, other than existential crises, what else do you spend your life doing?”  
“I write a little bit, I work at a bookstore when I get a chance. My parents are friends with the manager, so they sort of just call me in when needed. I also like acting, but I haven’t done that in ages. Oh, and I’m a intensely nerdy human being, so I play a lot of video games and watch a lot of anime.” Dan can feel heat growing in his cheeks. He doesn’t talk about his interests much— he’s always scared of what people will say.  
“No way! Me too,” Phil gushes. He takes a sip of his coffee, and Dan discovers a way to discreetly find the answer to the worry in the back of his brain.  
“How’d you decide to take the literature class?”  
“Well, I’m an english major, so that’s part of it,” Phil starts, taking another sip of his drink. Dan feels his heart drop until Phil finishes his sentence:  
“And, I figured, what’s better than a literature class where one can meet cute boys.”  
“That’s fair,” Dan replies and without thinking, adds, “it was sort of an accident that I ended up in the class. But I suppose cute boys are a perk too.”  
Phil doesn’t look like he’s expecting that answer or like he’s already assumed. But he also doesn’t look ridiculously surprised: he just nods in agreement. Dan feels like that’s the best reaction he could’ve hoped for and takes that to mean that this is not a date. Thank God.  
“Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Or a somebody?”  
Dan nearly spits out his drink when Phil says boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t just admit he likes guys, but, for some reason, the word boyfriend seems so much more real.  
“No, no. ‘M not with anybody. I don’t really have a gender preference, I just like who I like. But, not going to lie, the idea of dating a guy makes me nervous. Do you have a somebody?” Dan wants to hit his forehead against the table: no coming out, no admitting insecurities, and no showing interest. Dammit.  
“No, I don’t. A girl was into me a while back but girls aren’t really my type.” Phil raises an eyebrow, “Why does it make you nervous? Have you dated a guy before? If that’s not too personal.”  
Dan is quiet for a moment before answering.  
“I don’t know, I guess because I don’t really know how to be with guys. I’m awkward and I suck at love and my only ‘real’ relationship with a guy wasn’t the best…”  
“Then I’ll teach you!”  
“What?” Dan has honestly no clue what to say to that.  
“I’ll introduce you to guys. I can take you to the gay bar, tell you anything you’d like to know. Being with boys is fun, seriously. We’ll have a good time!”  
“You make it sound like there’s a fucking step-by-step manual,” Dan jokes. He doesn’t like they idea. It sounds scary and in a gray area when it comes to his plot for this year. But, he does want to spend time with Phil and maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing.  
“Okay. I’m down.”  
Dan is three weeks into the term, and he’s already completely messed up this year.  
So much for the goddamn plan.

 

 

Dan isn’t sure there as any one word, or even a collection of words, that truly describe Phil as a person. His personality is so much bigger than just a couple adjectives.  
If Dan had to describe Phil, he would probably say that he’s like laundry fresh from the dryer on a cold day. Like finding a notebook in in your favorite shade with your first initial on it. Like the type of rainy day where it’s pouring but still sunny so you jump in puddles and throw your arms up because ‘goddamn, isn’t the world wonderful?’ Dan still doesn’t feel like those are the exact words to describe Phil, but he’s not sure if there are any fitting words in the english language.  
Phil is like that comforting song that Dan grew up listening to but can’t remember the name of for the life of him.  
It’s the third time they have hung out outside of class and Dan is a few paces behind Phil as they head towards God-knows-where. It’s getting late, but it’s a Saturday, so Dan supposes it doesn’t matter.  
“Where are you taking me?” Dan asks for the sixth time, “Should I be scared?”  
Phil laughs, “maybe.”  
“Maybe? Phil, are you going to kill me? I know I’m annoying, but I didn’t think you’d realize it this quickly—”  
“Shut up.” Phil shakes his head, slowing down for a second so that Dan can catch up.  
“Seriously, can you at least give me an idea of where we’re going?” Dan looks over at Phil, crossing his arms and giving a big, overdramatic pout.  
“Fine.” Phil rolls his eyes, trying to fake exasperation, but the smile spreading across his face is a big giveaway, “We’re going on an adventure.”  
“Wow, thanks Phil. And I was worried you were going to be vague about it,” Dan says, voice coated in sarcasm.  
“I’ll tell you when we’re closer!” Phil responds, and after a bit of arguing, Dan lets it go.  
They are about fifteen minutes away from campus when Phil finally comes to a stop and Dan looks around to see where they have ended up. He is equally disappointed and confused. The road is small and the buildings are old, most of which are out of business shops. The only places that are open is a small café and a questionable tattoo parlor, so Dan is pretty sure he knows where they are going.  
“You know we can get coffee and tea on campus, right?” Dan says, still slightly addled. Why go fifteen minutes off campus for something they can find at Phil’s apartment?  
“What?” Phil looks around, finally taking notice of the little coffee shop, “Oh, no we’re not going there. Just don’t freak out when I tell you what we’re doing, okay?”  
“Should I freak out?” Dan asks before taking notice of the tattoo parlor again, “Phil Lester, are you taking me to get a tattoo. I swear to God, that’s a big fucking nope for me—”  
Luckily, Phil shakes his head. Dan lets out a sigh of relief as Phil begins to explain.  
“No, no! We’re still like two blocks away, I just wanted to prepare you mentally.”  
“Oh God.”  
“Dan, it’s going to be fine. Once I tell you, if you don’t want to go, we can go straight back to my apartment, okay?” The slight anxiety in Phil’s voice is making Dan nervous.  
“Spill it, Lester. You’re scaring the hell out of me.”  
“I thought,” Phil says hesitantly, “a good way to get you comfortable with guys and get you enjoying guys, would to be to flirt with some gay guys, you know?”  
“Phil, where are you taking me?”  
Phil grinds the toe of his shoe against the pavement as he finally answers, “we’re going to a gay bar.”  
Dan’s brain is like a light switch stuck in the middle of being on and off: he is wondering why Phil is is so worried that he’s going to freak out as his brain simultaneously freaks out.  
“If you want to go home now, or at anytime, we can. If it becomes too much, we can leave and get coffee. I just thought it would be fun and I knew if I told you earlier, you wouldn’t walk over a mile to go. But, I figured, if there wasn’t so much time to overthink it, you might try it,” Phil sputters, obviously wanting to make sure Dan is okay.  
Dan is okay. At least Dan thinks he’s okay. He’s trying to ignore the fear that seems to be pulling a noose tight around his ribcage.  
“Yeah, yeah. It will be fun!” Dan’s not sure if he’s trying reassure Phil or himself. Phil seems to take his word for it though and leads Dan down three more streets until they reach the bar.  
“Ready?” Phil asks and Dan doesn’t answer. He makes his way inside in response.  
Dan doesn’t know what he’s expecting: huge-ass pride flags? Rainbow everything?  
The bar looks just like every other bar Dan’s ever been to. Except the boys are cuter.  
Dan looks over at Phil to find that Phil’s already looking at him. A moment later, Phil looks away, goes up to the bar and orders them each a drink.  
The night is kind of a bust, but it’s still worth it. Dan and Phil end up talking at a booth in the corner for most of the night. The one guy that Dan actually has a full conversation with (other than Phil), assumes that Phil is Dan’s boyfriend, but before Dan can correct him, he’s talking to someone else.  
When him and Phil go home, they talk and laugh.  
Sure, the night didn’t quite go how they had hoped.  
But, in spite of that, Dan doesn’t know what to do with the fact that his own breathing sounds less labored.

 

The times that Dan and Phil see each other slowly fall closer and closer together, and soon Dan’s schedule consists of three things: work, class, and spending time with Phil.  
Dan learns something new about Phil every time, whether they are studying at Phil’s flat, playing video games at Dan’s dorm, or going on adventures to coffee shops and restaurants.  
Despite Phil’s constant positivity and vast personality, Dan does at least 70% of the talking. Phil is more of a listener, really. Dan learns this when they go to this run-down café on the outskirts of campus, over one of the best lattes Dan has had in his entire life. Dan is twenty minutes into a rambling, one-sided conversation about finding meaning in existence when he comes to an abrupt halt.  
“Oh god, I’ve gone on for ages, haven’t I?”  
“No, no, I like listening. You have some pretty cool insights.”  
The first time Dan goes to Phil’s apartment and sees windowsills adorned with dozens of plants and walls covered with photos of wildlife, he gathers the fact that Phil loves nature pretty quickly. When Dan points out the excessive amount of plants that cover many a surface in Phil’s apartment, Phil turns slightly red as he talks about how much he loves living things. Dan’s not sure he’s seen Phil as passionate about anything as he is about plants. Phil also admits later that he started out as a biology major but it was too slow, so he switched to english, in addition to taking some photography/ video courses.  
Dan finds out Phil is a year ahead of him, but is two years older as he took gap year before starting Uni.  
When Dan and Phil try out a new pizza place (which they both end up agreeing is completely overrated), Dan is told about Phil’s family, his first kiss, and his coming out story. Phil is wonderful and although he doesn’t say as much as Dan, every word that he says is important and meaningful (and a lot of times, a little wonderfully weird as well).  
Somedays, Phil casually throws in some information contributing to the whole making-Dan-boy-comfortable plan. (Dan jokes that this is gay propaganda to which Phil rolls his eyes and shoves him off the couch.) Phil talks about his past relationships with guys and Dan explains that he does like girls, he just likes boys more. Dan’s pretty sure that’s one of the most meaningful things he’s said in regard to sexuality. Phil also talks about how, before realizing he was gay, he dated some girls.  
“And although that didn’t end up being for me, dating a guy is just like dating a girl. It’s all very real. Just with occasional homophobia,” Phil tells him. This piece of information makes Dan feel a weird confidence for the next few days. Because, you know, his love is real. He’d never heard that before.  
One time, Phil even attempts to educate a (slightly) misinformed Dan on gay sex. Yeah, Dan had seen porn and heard about it, but every time in the past he had thought about it, he tried to shove it away as quickly as possible. Hearing that it’s okay from someone else is oddly validating, but, towards the end of that conversation, Dan makes a ridiculous amount of jokes and attempts at changing conversation to avoid the discomfort and self-hate inching into his brain. Phil catches on, and starts talking about some dumb book he has to read for class.  
Dan finds himself liking spending time with Phil more than he likes alone time, which is really saying something. If they see each other outside of class less than three days a week, it’s unusual and Dan can feel his shoulders start to lose a weight he didn’t realize he’s been carrying for years. Happiness is more of a part-time resident than a visitor.  
When they see each other and the conversation shifts Dan’s direction, he’s willing to share lots more about himself than he expected. As long as the information has nothing to do with his past relationships/ friendships, his family, his past with mental health, and anything too far into the realm of sexuality. After Dan feels like he’s overshared, he tries to talk more about Phil. He wants Phil to know more but he’s not ready. He’s not sure if he ever will be. Dan says a lot of words but very few are even half as vulnerable as Phil’s.  
If Phil notices Dan steering the conversation away from his past, Phil’s tactful enough to not show it.

 

 

Phil tends to show up at the weirdest times, because he’s Phil fucking Lester and why would he not show up at Dan’s dorm at 3 in the morning. But, luckily for Phil, Dan’s sleeping schedule is shit, so it doesn’t bother him much.  
Tonight was one of those nights. It’s so late (or early) that it’s almost light out and Phil is leading Dan across a corner of campus Dan has never been to. Eventually, in the middle of a courtyard, Phil comes to a stop. He brought his camera and he turns around to grin at Dan.  
“So, you’re okay if a take a few photos of you?”  
“I wouldn’t have walked across campus with you this early in the morning if it wasn’t okay,” Dan laughs. Without warning, Phil snaps a photo. Dan hopes he doesn’t look as unprepared as he feels.  
This goes on for a while, Phil taking photos and Dan making Phil laugh so hard it makes the shot blurry. Once Phil is done, he contorts his arms so that he can get a picture of him and Dan together. Dan makes some stupid pun and Dan rolls his eyes as Phil bursts into laughter. Eventually, they end up sitting on slightly damp grass, backs propped against a bench and knees touching ever-so slightly.  
Dan doesn’t know how to feel about the sensation in his stomach. His abdomen feels like it’s home to a thousand bugs and a Jackson Pollock painting  
A brief thought enters Dan’s brain: isn’t this what falling for someone feels like?  
The pictures are nice, and the sky is fucking beautiful, but there is nothing quite as amazing as the feeling in the pit of Dan’s stomach.

 

When Dan hears the knock, he already knew he won’t be writing the eight page essay for his philosophy course. But he makes his peace with that fact the moment he opens the door.  
He knew it had to be Phil, as nobody else visits his dorm ever, but he isn’t expecting to see Phil dressed up in a patterned blazer in the late evening on a Tuesday.  
“Hey?” Dan says as more of a question then a greeting, glancing down at his sweatpants and stained t-shirt for a moment before looking back at Phil. It’s hard to keep his eyes off him. After all, he looks phenomenal.  
Objectively, of course.  
“Hello!” There is so much excitement in Phil’s voice, it makes Dan get that dumb warmth in his chest again.  
Phil ends up taking Dan to a nice dinner (after spending twenty minutes attempting to convince Dan that the simple button up and slacks he had put on looked amazing). When Dan asks the occasion, Phil just shrugs.  
It grows late quickly. They tell stories and drink wine and eat food and argue over the check. Finally, once they are done, Phil walks Dan back to his dorm. They come to a stop once they are in front of the building.  
Phil is already looking at him, and Dan smiles, pretending color isn’t creeping into his cheeks. Phil grins back. They stand like that on the pavement for a bit, just seeing each other, still drunk on wine and the walk home. Streetlights creep into the corner of Dan’s vision and he tries to focus on that, not on the boy with the quiff and the cornflower blue visionary eyes.  
“Dan?” Phil asks.  
“Yeah?” Dan doesn’t know what the hell to expect.  
“Can I kiss you?”  
Maybe Dan’s had one too much to drink. Maybe he is so caught up in the moment, that he forgets himself. Maybe, somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach, he wants this. Dan doesn’t know why, but he nods.  
When Phil kisses him, it’s soft. Which is strange to Dan because the two boys he’s kissed were so rough, not always in mannerisms but just in feeling, lips like rocky waves. That’s not to say he didn’t like kissing them. He did, but kissing Phil is so different. It’s better. But Phil’s softness isn’t like kissing girls either, no, girls are petal soft while Phil is gentle with some give, like old leather. Like that one leather jacket Dan has had since he was sixteen that still fits him for some reason (maybe because it was his grandfathers and was gigantic when it came into his possession). He wears it a lot because it feels like morning light, it feels like warmth, it feels like home.  
Kissing Phil is kind of like that.  
But when his dumb brain hits him with reality and tangible thought, he needs to pull away. Every instinct in his body is screaming for him to let the beautiful boy kiss him longer. But Dan pulls away anyway. He has to. Dan watches Phil stand there for a split second, like he’s savoring the memory of Dan’s lips on his, before opening his eyes to look at the other boy. Phil’s expression falls when he sees the one on Dan’s face.  
“I’m sorry—“ Dan starts and Phil, Phil who listens to every one of Dan’s loud-ass, lengthy rants and is quiet the entire duration of every story he tells, interrupts him.  
“Don’t start with sorry.”  
“Why not?” Dan wonders out loud and the words come out a tad bit too defensive. He doesn’t know a better way to start a rejection. There is no good, respectable way to break someone’s heart.  
“Whatever you're about to say, it’s not something you need to apologize for, Dan. You don’t need to say you’re sorry for how you feel.”  
“I can’t Phil. I can’t do,” Dan motions between the two of them, because the words seem too honest, "this. I am sorry though.”  
“You have every right in the world to say no but there’s no need to apologize for your feelings. I understand, Dan,” Phil gives Dan a sad smile, and although he’s obviously not thrilled, he maintains his cheery nature, “We’re okay. I’m always up for friendship.”  
Dan doesn’t like being lost for words, but here he is. He doesn’t understand how Phil does this, reads his mind and says exactly what Dan needs to hear.  
The only words that cross Dan’s buzzing brain are the ones he can’t say. The thing he can’t admit. The one part of the plan he can’t let shatter: he can’t make the same mistake he did last time. And, plan or not, he these feelings are probably temporary. Just an infatuation. So why ruin the plan (and their friendship) over it?”  
So, instead of saying what he feels, or what he thinks he feels, he goes with:  
“Thanks for understanding. I am sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that you could kiss me when I knew I couldn’t do a relationship. I wasn’t thinking.”  
“Seriously, it’s okay.” Phil crosses his arms, not in a hurt way, but in a intent-on-giving-Dan-the-distance-he-needs-way. His eyes wander Dan’s features, like they did mere minutes before, but without the magical atmosphere. They have both sobered up.  
“I should get going,” Dan comments, pointing towards his building, “Laundry to do, crises to have.”  
“Okay,” Phil says, still not moving.  
“Okay,” Dan starts up the steps to his building, not wanting to go.  
“Dan?”  
“Yeah,” Dan turns to see Phil, who is still planted to his spot.  
“I’m glad we’re friends anyway, and I know you have your reasons, but I think you should know that I doubt you’re shit at it.”  
Dan is up two flights of stairs before he recalls what he had told Phil when they first got coffee.  
‘I’m shit at love.’

 

 

Dan is somehow surprised when things don’t get awkward after the night that he and Phil kissed. When Dan gets to class on Thursday, Phil is already there. As always.  
Dan and Phil talk after class, as always and Phil even proposes that they hang out the next day.  
Like always.  
One night, Dan even sleeps over. Phil makes dinner while Dan sits on the counter and talks to him about some new video game coming out.  
Phil even sleeps on the couch so that Dan can have his bed. (Dan keeps offering to take the couch but Phil insists. Phil says this is because Dan is taller, as well as the guest.)  
They do that more and more often as the weeks go on. At one point, Dan even meets some of Phil’s friends. They are awfully nice, and Dan hopes he can get to know them better.  
Whenever Dan starts to feel like shit, he just check his computer and looks in the file in the upper left-hand corner of his computer screen, where the photos Phil took of him reside.  
In every photo, Dan’s smile rivals every grin that has graced his face in his entire life.

 

Dan’s phone is ringing.  
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he picks up the phone, but it’s not his ex boyfriend’s voice. Dan hears him, obviously drunk and obviously angry. Dan is quiet for a moment, as he tries to think but he can’t. All he can register is the man calling him a “worthless depressed fa—”  
Dan hangs up the phone and blocks the caller immediately. He’ll go in later this week and change his number for the third time in six months.  
This is why he needs to stick to the fucking plan.  
Dan throws some things into a bag. He knows he tosses a pair of sweatpants and one of his textbooks but doesn’t really pay attention to anything else. He just needs to get out. It’s raining, but Dan doesn’t care.  
He starts to walk, trying to prevent the horrid sobs growing inside of him. He doesn’t know where he’s going or where he wants to be.  
But he does know where would be best.

 

“What happened?”  
It’s late when Phil asks the question. After Dan had showed up, drenched in rain with puffy eyes, Phil had let him in with no questions asked. The night had been as normal as Phil could make it, and Dan was sure he wasn’t mentioning Dan’s arrival because he didn’t want to pry. Phil had lent Dan a set of warm clothes (in all of his hurry, Dan had only packed one pair of ripped sweatpants). Then Phil made dinner for the two of them. But, instead of sitting on the counter and talking to Phil while he cooked, Dan had curled up in a kitchen chair with nothing to say. They had marathoned movies and shows, Dan staying mostly silent, replying with few words at a time no matter how many comments or jokes Phil made about whatever they were watching. Dan hadn’t been trying to be so quiet and obviously hurt, but his brain couldn’t seem to process most of what Phil said, the words seeming like handwriting Dan couldn’t quite decipher. Phil had even let it slide when Dan didn’t want to play video games. But now, the hour was late, and they were laying in Phil’s bed. The normal routine of Phil moving from his room to the couch when they decided to turn in for the night had been disregarded, as though Phil could tell that Dan shouldn’t be alone. When Phil finally asks the question, completely unprompted, after thirty minutes of laying in the dark, Dan doesn’t know how to respond. So he attempts to buy himself some time.  
“What?”  
“Who hurt you?” Phil’s voice is concerned, but not unkind. It’s protective with a slight urgency and an underlying softness. It reminds Dan of the way Phil kisses. Dan doesn’t know exactly what he means, if Phil is talking about just tonight or just in general.  
“What?” Dan repeats, feeling like a broken record stuck on an overplayed, sad song.  
“Who hurt you this badly?” Phil’s voice is still calm and coated in a safety Dan isn’t used to.  
“You mean who fucked me up this badly?” Dan’s question is shaky and he isn’t sure why.  
“No, I don’t. You aren’t fucked up. I know you Dan, I can tell you’re hurt and insecure and afraid. Who hurt you? You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened today, you don’t have to tell me about your past, but I want to help. You don’t have to spill every secret you have or any of that shit, but if you could tell me something, I can listen. I want to listen. You don’t have to keep it in your head anymore, Dan.” When Phil says this, the oxygen in Dan’s chest freezes. He’s not used to this.  
Dan is used to cold stares and cool comments surrounding his imperfections, so the constant light radiating from Phil seems so strange. Dan is accustomed to hostile responses to his identity exploration, not the sincerely kind response Phil gave back when they first became friends. The silence lingers for a moment as Dan tries to put words to his feelings.  
“It’s a lot, Phil. I don’t want to put that on you,” Dan murmurs, staring at the ceiling through the darkness. He hears Phil shift, and despite Dan’s brain telling him not to, Dan looks at him. Phil has rolled over to face Dan, and is propping himself up on his elbow. Dan’s eyes have long adjusted to the dark: he can tell how intently Phil is looking at him.  
“Everything’s a lot. Please, I want to help. You don’t have to if you really don’t want to but it’s only,” Phil pauses to look over at his clock, “1 am. And tomorrow’s Saturday. We have all the time in the world.”  
Dan is quiet for a moment before speaking.  
“My ex called. He’s not a nice person. I’m just scared, I guess.”  
“Of what?” Phil asks softly.  
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about it,” Dan says quietly, and Phil lets it go. But not before asking:  
“Anyway I can help?”  
Dan doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what Phil can do.  
“Come here,” Phil whispers softly. Dan is quiet, not sure if Phil means what he thinks Phil means. Dan is proven correct when Phil pulls Dan into his chest.  
“This okay, Dan?”  
Dan nods. Because it is okay. This might be just what he needs. Phil’s arms bring a sensation Dan’s never felt before.  
Is this safety?  
Dan ignores the dirty feeling in his body and the sand-like weight filling his lungs as he presses his forehead against Phil’s chest.  
Or at least he tries to.

 

This time, Dan asks.  
Dan can’t help but raise his eyebrows at the obvious shock etched into Phil’s features.  
“Is that a problem?” Dan asks for the second time.  
“No, no. Just—,” Phil attempts to hide his confusion. He fails. “I just didn’t think you were going to be comfortable enough to ask. But that’s not a bad thing! I’m proud of you.”  
“We’re literally just going and flirting with other guys who like guys at the bar again, ‘s not that big of a deal,” Dan counters, not meeting Phil’s eyes.  
Phil and Dan go to the gay bar again that evening.  
They are only there for about an hour when Dan decides he wants to leave. He had been talking to some guy, who’s name hadn’t caught, and everything was going fine. Until the guy leaned in, put his hands onto Dan’s hips, and pulled him into a kiss. The kiss was rough, all crashing waves and the taste of cigarettes, a sensation that brought the previous year back in a screaming memory. He had felt like Dan’s ex.  
Dan had pushed him away, apologizing and apologizing and went to splash his face with water. But, when he throws up, he isn’t surprised. Memories are torture, sharpie graffiti on his skull.  
Eventually he decides he wants to leave. When he opens the door, and goes back up to the bar, the man with the cigarette smoke lips is gone. He’s relieved.  
Dan goes to tell Phil that he’s leaving and stops in his tracks.  
Phil is deeply invested in a conversation with a boy. A cute boy  
But, when Dan tells Phil that he’s going, Phil leaves with him after apologizing to the guy he was talking to.  
Phil doesn’t ask why.  
They walk home and talk about everything but the bar, as though nothing happened. Dan thanks Phil in his head for not bringing it up yet. His brain is calm, but he still has a feeling of filth on his tongue.  
Dan doesn’t know when Phil put his jacket on Dan’s shoulders, but he finds himself shrugging it off once they’re back at Phil’s flat. Dan is sitting on the counter next to the sink in his normal spot. Phil is leaning against the sink, still on his feet.  
“So, you okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” Dan takes a bite of his pasta thoughtfully. Ever since the night he had broken down at Phil’s flat, Dan had felt even more safe. Sure, boys are fucking terrifying, but even tonight, with Phil by his side, his identity didn’t feel so scary. Dan thinks for a moment more before finishing his thoughts, “I don’t think it was the bar or the blow-your-brains-out loud music, it’s just— I’m still not completely comfortable with guys, and like I’ve only ever kissed a few guys. You, one kid in high school on a dare, and my ex boyfriend, like twice.”  
“Only twice?”  
“It was a complicated relationship,” Dan attempts to move the conversation away from his ex, “I just feel, I don’t know— it’s different kissing guys than girls, ya’ know? And the guy I was talking to kissed me tonight. I just kind of freaked out.”  
“You kissed someone? How did I not notice?”  
“No, he kissed me,” Dan corrects, “You were busy with your conversation, it’s fine. It just made me go into a panic. I don’t know why boys make me fucking freak—”  
“Maybe it’s because you don’t know the guy.”  
“What?” Dan looks over at Phil. He’s got his eyes set intently on his plate of pasta, clearly avoiding Dan’s gaze.  
“I was just wondering if maybe you felt uncomfortable because you didn’t know the guy,” Phil says, voice quiet. Dan would normally think it just a theory, but the lack of eye contact and the softness makes it sound more like an offer.  
“Yeah, maybe.” Dan’s voice is indifferent. He’s afraid that he’s misreading the situation. There’s a few beats of silence.  
“I liked kissing you, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.” Phil glances up from his plate at Dan, voice still laced with anxiety.  
“Are you proposing what I think you’re proposing?” Dan wonders out loud, and he think it’s the first time since they met that he’s sounded more sure than Phil.  
“I mean, I did tell you I’d show being with boys is a good time,” his voice is gaining confidence and a smile crosses his face, “Do you want to?”  
“You don’t have feelings for me anymore, correct?”  
“Correct,” Phil confirms.  
“Let’s do it.’  
Phil turns, and it’s just then that Dan realizes the how close they are.  
Dan suddenly feels nervous, the dirty feeling returning to his tongue again.  
“Are you sure?” Phil let’s his eyes slip down to Dan’s lips.  
Dan answers by leaning forward and pressing a peck against Phil’s grin, “I’m positive, Phil.”  
Dan is positive, yes. But Dan also feels like this is wrong.  
There’s a beat of silence before Phil comes back for another kiss.  
Kissing Phil is even better than Dan remembers, even though he had been buzzed the last time. Dan doesn’t know how long they are kissing for, but he doesn’t care. He lets the wrong feeling slip away.  
All he can think about is Phil’s touch and the possibility of dating him—  
Wait. No. He can’t date Phil, he doesn’t have feelings for Phil.  
Right?  
But the bubbling feeling in his chest proves him wrong. He tries not to panic. God, he’s in the middle of kissing a cute boy and he’s about to have a motherfucking crisis.  
1)Phil doesn’t like him.  
2)Dan isn’t dating right now.  
3)He likes their friendship.  
Dan plays all the reasons why he can’t be with Phil over and over in his head.  
It’s fine. Everything is fine. Dan will stifle the feelings, he’s done it before. But he can keep kissing Phil, right? Kissing isn’t inherently romantic.  
Dan pushes the bright sensation in his chest away and just focuses on the warm feeling of Phil’s hand on his hip.

 

 

Dan tends to write lists when he’s stressed.  
Too much work? Write a to do list.  
Doesn’t know what to do in the future? Write a list of job ideas.  
Feelings for boy who he shouldn’t fall for? Write a lists of why he can’t date Phil (which comes to be in late October).  
It’s the perfect way to plan yet procrastinate what he should actually be doing.  
Like starting the homework. Or doing actual job research. Or ending whatever he has with Phil.  
Dan knows if he keeps this up, the fall will be irreversible and he’ll just end up getting hurt.  
The plan was in place for a reason.

 

The ‘Why Dating Phil Can’t Happen’ list has existed for a little over a week when Dan and Phil next see each other outside. It’s not until then that Dan realizes he’d been avoiding Phil.  
Phil doesn’t say anything on it, but when Phil asks if Dan wants to play video games together after class, Dan feels obligated to say yes.  
An hour later, Dan’s aggressively cursing as Phil beats him in another round of Mario Kart. As the small tv announces Phil as winner, Dan throws his remote playfully at him. Phil retaliates by elbowing Dan.  
Dan’s not really sure how they end up there, but ten minutes later Phil has tackled him and they are laying on the floor. They are breathing heavily and Dan can feel the rough carpet underneath him. They are looking at each other, the air is heavy with a booming drumroll. Phil’s faceis just inches away from his, Dan could just—  
There’s a moment of eye contact before Phil leans in.  
Dan can’t help but kiss back  
Dan plays the list over and over in his head when he’s not focusing on Phil, and reasons with himself that he can do this thing without letting his feelings get out of control.  
He can still get rid of his feelings. Yeah. Yeah. That can’t be too difficult. Plus, Phil is just helping him get comfortable with guys. And Phil said he doesn’t feel that way about Dan anymore—  
A moment later, Phil starts to press kisses on to his collarbones and up his neck, Dan knows he’s done for.  
Phil pulls away, and Dan gets nervous for a moment. Did he fuck up? Of course Dan fucked something up.  
“How far are we going? I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with?” Phil asks and Dan can see how widely blown his pupils are.  
“I’m good with anything. Seriously,” Dan breathes.  
“And this is a no-feelings thing? Just us being us and me showing you that being with guys is fun, right?” Phil is trying to make sure, double-checking that Dan won’t regret this.  
Dan doubts he will.

 

When Dan opens his eyes, the sun is fucking blinding.  
His body aches slightly but it’s worth it. He’s still on a high from the night before, despite the strange, filthy feeling that haunts his bones.  
He didn’t expect being fucked by a guy to be a million times better than fucking a girl. But it was. He shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to remember every detail of the previous night.  
He doesn’t regret it, not in the slightest, but he can feel a tiny ball of guilt forming in his lungs. Last night meant something to Dan and nothing to Phil. He hates the feeling, but it’s for the best. He can’t date anyone right now.  
Phil’s already awake and he presses his lips to Dan’s once he realizes Dan’s awake. But not before double checking that last night was okay. Dan nods. When Phil kisses Dan, 90% of the guilt leaves Dan’s chest.  
The rest of the day consists of attempts at studying. In reality, Dan’s pretty sure they spend at least six hours playing assorted video games, watching shows, and ordering in more meals than they need, while they spend maybe three hours doing work. And three hours is a generous guess.  
There no discussion whether or not Dan should sleep over. He just does.

 

Time seems to fly by.  
Christmas comes too soon, and even though Phil insists that Dan comes with him to see his parents, Dan refuses. He promises they will celebrate when Phil gets back.  
Dan keeps being friends with Phil. He keeps kissing Phil. Dan keeps sleeping with Phil too, and he doesn’t really know what he thinks about that.  
And Dan’s pretty sure he’s correct about being able to rid of his feelings for Phil. He does not give Phil a startling confession of affection or fall in love with Phil. He follows the plan.  
Sure, he gets jealous when he sees Phil walking with a guy Dan doesn’t know across campus or the bartender flirts with Phil during their outing on new years eve. Dan considers this all as he watches the man give Phil another free drink. Dan’s only jealous because Phil is the person he’s closest to and he likes spending time with him and only him.  
That’s got to be it. Because Dan can’t date Phil and having a mental breakdown is not allowed to happen.  
And Dan keeps his pact with himself to not have a breakdown.  
For about sixteen days.

 

“I’m about to mess everything up.”  
“That’s almost as exciting as ‘we need to talk’,” Dan looks up from his book, a tangled, shaking knot of anxiety forming in the cavity of his chest.  
“Fuck,” Phil mutters under his breath, leg shaking as he sits down. Dan is thoroughly concerned now.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I- just, I, shit—“  
“Deep breath, Phil. In for four, hold for four, out for—“  
“I’m okay, I’m okay just let me— let me get through this,” Phil is quiet for a minute, placing his face in his hands, and Dan waits, listening intently. Phil sounds the most nervous Dan has ever heard him.  
“Look,” Phil takes a deep breath, “I think I’m falling for you. And I know I said I wouldn’t but my brain escalated things for some reason and I think I might be in lo—.”  
“What?” Dan cuts him off, half out of shock, half out of fear of hearing the second half of that word. Because he wants to return the feelings, he does return them for the love of god, but he just can’t give Phil the answer he wants. The answer they both want.  
Dan tries to ignore the soft tickle of happiness that sits in his stomach. He could just do this.  
“I’m sorry, I know, I know,” Phil mutters, trying to remove the tremor from his words, “I said I wouldn’t, I said that I would move on and separate the feelings I used to have from the whole thing but then they came back. I thought I could just ignore them. I thought if I pushed them deep enough for long enough they would go away but they didn’t. I didn’t stick to the plan and I’m so sorry. I am. I will get rid of them, I will. I promise. I just knew I should tell you.”  
The happiness sits Dan’s chest for about two second before his lungs implode and all the sudden he wants to scream. Dan wants to yell into pillows and at strangers and at Phil because fuck everything. Phil loving Dan makes hiding his feelings for Phil so much harder, and Dan wants to throw away all common sense and kiss Phil so fucking badly. But Dan is broken and insecure and scared shitless. The fact that Phil returns the same feelings that float in Dan’s chest, but fear adds weight, making his lungs heavy and Dan is fucking suffocating because why was falling for girls never like this? Why did his feelings for Phil make him feel dirty? The same filthy feeling he felt when he touched his last love for the final time, the same filthy he felt when kissing the boy at the bar, the same filth that haunted him when he slept with Phil for the first time.  
He feels fucking unclean and he wants to bathe in bleach, wash every feeling Phil gives him away and sand his skull down until the last few months are nothing more than a memory.  
Dan hates this.  
He hates that he looks at the handsome boy with the slight frown where a stupidly sweet smile should be and sees a fucking force of nature. Phil is so not and Dan is the wildfire, but every alarm in his brain rings at the admission, telling him he needs to get out. Dan’s suffocating on his own smoke.  
He just needs to get out. Maybe out of the apartment, maybe out of his head.  
De hates this all so much.  
He doesn’t know what this his brain is on now, but he loathes it with every shrieking cell in his skin.  
When he gets up to leave without a word, he can hear Phil calling out after him in a panicked shout but Dan needs to leave. Dan needs to forget.  
He sees Phil’s terrified, desperate expression for about half a second before he shuts the door. He smells dinner burning and hears Phil say:  
“Please stay. Dan, please.”  
He pretends he doesn’t.  
Once the door has slammed shut, it’s easier to pretend.

 

 

If there is one thing Dan is excellent at, it’s avoidance.  
Homework, cleaning, blue-eyed boys who are in love with him. You name it.  
Every class, he shows up after Phil and sits in a new seat. He ignores Phil’s texts and call. He spends most of his times at shitty restaurants Phil has never been to or the library furthest from Phil’s flat. When someone knocks on the locked door of Dan’s dorm, he assumes it’s Phil and doesn’t answer. After all, who else would it be?  
Eventually, it seems like Phil has given up. Dan shows up before Phil one day, but Phil doesn’t sit next to him. The texts and calls stop coming. If he sees Phil when he’s at a restaurant they used to go to together, Phil gets up to leave. Nobody knocks at Dan’s door anymore.  
Once, Dan even sees Phil’s friend Louise at the library, so he leaves before she can spot him.  
Dan pretends this lonely existence is better, but he knows it’s not.  
Even if he wanted to, Phil wouldn’t want to talk to him. And even if Phil did, isn’t this what the plan called floor? Dan decides to go back to feigning straightness and limited human contact. The only people he talks to are coffee shop baristas and his brother on the phone.  
Each day it gets harder to breathe. Each day it gets harder to leave his bed. Each day it gets harder to take his antidepressants and go to class.  
This is how he should feel, right?  
It’s nearly two weeks after Phil stopped trying and almost a month after they stopped talking when he receives another text from Phil. It’s only three words.  
‘I miss you’  
Dan’s tired of this.  
He doesn’t want to miss Phil anymore.  
But this pain is the whole reason he was planning on no friendships, relationships, or coming out. He needs to stop thinking.  
When Dan gets to the bar, he doesn’t know why he’s there. It’s a different bar than the one that he and Phil went to so many times. This one has horrendously colored lights and girls who throw suggestive glances his way. For a few moment, he thinks about leaving and just going home. Or going to Phil’s flat.  
“Can I get you something?” The bartender asks. She’s wearing dark makeup and is pulling her dark, red hair into a high bun.  
Dan knows he shouldn’t drink. He knows he should go home. But he doesn’t. He orders a drink and another after that. When girls come to talk to him, he tells them he’s not interested. He doesn’t want anybody in this bar. Dan orders some drinks he’s never heard of. He drinks one that tastes like liquid pepper, and another that tastes horrendously sweet. He soon starts to lose count and—  
Everything is a blur after that.

 

Dan’s head is fucking pounding and the pain heightens ten-fold when he opens his eyes.  
The first thing he does after being attacked by lamplight is throw up into the bin next to his bed.  
He shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on his uneven breathing.  
The moment Dan remembers that he doesn’t have a bin by his bed occurs about half a second before he hears Phil’s voice.  
“You okay?”  
Dan’s eyes fly open to see Phil walking into the room, holding a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. It takes Dan another minute of reorganizing his thoughts before he realizes this is not his bed at all. The sheets smell like Phil and are way too colorful to be his own. The curtains are shut, making the offensively bright bedside lamp the only light in the room. Dan take must take too long to answer, because Phil just continues.  
“Here, take these.” He sets the pill bottle and the glass on the table next to the bed, “I can probably find something for the nausea too.”  
Dan is quiet, looking down at the offering on the table. The last time Dan had gotten this drunk since his 18th birthday, and the splitting headache reminds him of why that is. Last night comes back to him in a thousand shades of neon lights and other broken thoughts. The image of Phil’s lips starting to form around the word ‘love’ appears, the moment he hasn’t been able to erase from his thoughts for a month. Dan starts to feel nauseous all over again, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol still in his system. He picks up the glass hesitantly and takes the medicine.  
“How’d you find me?” Dan questions between gulps of water.  
“You called me, remember? Told me that you were having an existential crisis. You could barely stand, let alone walk, by the time I got there.”  
“Shit.” It’s the only response that Dan can think to say as he takes the final pill. There’s a moment of quiet.  
“Dan— I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I just thought I should tell you that. And we’ve got to figure it out at some point.”  
Dan nods. He never realized one could lie with a simple head movement before.  
“I’m going to back to sleep for a while if that’s okay,” Dan croaks, “You should get some sleep too. When I wake up, we’ll talk about this, yeah?”  
Phil nods in agreement as well. Dan is thankful when, instead of climbing into bed with him, Phil lies down on a pile of blankets on the floor. He feels bad for Phil having to sleep on the floor, but his head is still splitting and his lungs feel shriveled with anxiety.  
Dan figures he’ll leave when Phil falls asleep.  
He doesn’t account for the fact that Phil’s bed is comfortable and that his eyelids are also heavy.

 

 

Dan realizes the moment he wakes up that he should have just left while Phil was awake. When he opens his eyes, Phil is reading a book in his spot on the floor. He looks up the moment Dan starts to get out of bed. Dan tries to ignore the taste of vomit and vodka that still poisons his lips.  
“Morning. Feel any better?”  
Dan doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls on his shoes which are besides the bed.  
“Dan?” Phil pulls himself to his feet. Dan starts toward the bedroom door, but Phil stops him.  
“Dan, we need to talk about this,” Phil insists and Dan pushes past him. Dan begins to pull on his jacket which he fines on the back of a kitchen chair.  
“I’m sorry that I told you but I’m not sorry that I love you,” Phil admits, voice firm. Dan stops for a split second before pulling the item of clothing the rest of the way. He doesn’t look at Phil when he storms towards the door.  
“You can’t just walk away from this!”  
Dan is so surprised, he looks back at Phil. Phil never raises his voice.  
“I can do whatever the hell I want, Phil,” Dan’s voice is loud, and he starts to leave again, the distance closing between he and the door feeling familiar.  
“I know you’re scared.”  
Dan freezes at Phil’s voice. His voice is still loud, on the edge of anger but closer to concern. It makes Dan’s chest ache. He turns around in what feels like slow motion before Phil continues.  
“I know that, Dan. I don’t know how the hell you feel about me, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can run and run and run. You can shut me out, avoid my calls, skip class, whatever.”  
Phil takes a breath, tears starting to run down his face, before going on.  
“But at the end of the day, you can’t run from yourself. I know you’re scared of liking boys and scared of them liking you. I know you’re scared of love because of the things that have happened to you. I know you’re scared of your depression. I know your ex-boyfriend hurt you so badly that you don’t know what to do with all the pain. I know you don’t like being bi because of the way people treat you, I know you hate that you like boys no matter how okay you are that I like them—”  
“How did you know?” Dan’s question is so quiet that he worries Phil might not of caught it.  
“You told me when you were still drunk off your ass. I tried to get you to shut up because I knew you would of never told me those thing sober but you wouldn’t be quiet. I’m so sorry, I am. But I feel like it’s good that I know: it’s okay to be open. It’s okay to be scared. But Dan, you don’t have to be anymore. I’m here.”  
The next silence is the longest yet. Phil still has tears running down his face and Dan doesn’t realize that he’s also crying until his mouth starts to taste strongly of salt.  
Dan meets Phil’s eyes.  
Dan’s heart is throwing itself against his ribcage and Phil’s right, Dan’s so fucking scared but maybe that’s okay. Maybe the long hours spent playing video games, his feelings, kissing Phil’s lips, wanting happiness, everything, was bigger than that fear.  
Maybe Dan’s scared but maybe Dan is also so much fucking bigger than the terror that’s pumped self-hate through his veins for so long.  
No, he doesn’t need Phil.  
No, he doesn’t need love.  
No, he doesn’t need to be happy.  
But what’s the point then? If he doesn’t love anybody, how will everyone know how fucking hard he loves? If nobody knows him, what’s the point of being worth knowing? If he’s not trying to be happy, what the hell is he doing?  
Phil is still looking at him and Dan doesn’t know how many decades have passed since Phil last spoke.  
“Phil?” Dan’s voice cracks, and he’s scared, yes. But doesn’t that just mean this is real? Doesn’t this just mean he’s on to something so much bigger and better and more important than anything else he’s ever done?  
“Yeah?” Phil’s voice is quiet.  
Dan takes a few steps forward, so that him and Phil are a meter away from being nose to nose.  
“I’m sorry—“ Dan starts but Phil doesn’t let him finish.  
“No, it’s —“  
“No. I’m sorry because I also promised I wouldn’t either,” Dan watches Phil’s eyes widen before continuing, “ I love you too, Phil. So damn much.”  
They stand there for another century before Dan shuts his eyes. When he leans forward, Phil meets him halfway.  
The kiss has no cinematic elegance, it’s not beautiful. Dan has started crying again and Phil’s holding Dan’s jaw like it’s the only solid thing left on earth, like Dan’s the only thing keeping him from sinking. Phil tastes of salt but Dan’s sure he does too. Dan’s arms are hooked around Phil’s neck and the kiss is still messily awkward, but it feels right. It’s real and good and meaningful. When Phil pulls away, forehead still pressed against Dan’s, he whispers a dainty ‘I love you too, Dan. So much, Love.’ And he leans back in to kiss Dan but Dan starts crying harder. He presses his face into Phil’s shoulder and he feels Phil’s arm’s wrap around his waist.  
Dan is scared, yes, but the fear is now so small it could fit in the palm of his hand, even as he cries into the crook of Phil’s neck. Dan feels Phil kiss the top of his head, Dan lets out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. Then, he takes his first breath after years of drowning.  
And God, does it feel wonderful.

 

Dan wakes up to find his face buried in Phil’s pillow.  
He can feel Phil pressed against his back, and he smiles at the sound of Phil’s deep breathing. Dan slips out from under Phil’s arm, brain still buzzing from the previous night and the conversations that had gone into the early morning.  
Dan had explained how he had been dealing with depression for a few years now and that his last boyfriend took advantage of that. Last year had nearly killed Dan. Dan told Phil how his last love had convinced him that he couldn’t survive without a boyfriend, and that’s when the relationship had taken a turn for the worst. All though they had never had sex, Dan’s boyfriend would guilt-trip Dan constantly about the fact that Dan wasn’t ready. He cut Dan off from all of his friends and made him skip weeks of class to stay with him, sending Dan spiraling even further. He accused Dan of cheating (even though Dan was the one in the relationship not seeing someone on the side) and Dan finally stood up from himself. That’s when his boyfriend had started hitting Dan, but Dan had convinced himself there was no way out. But eventually, in the middle of the summer, Dan had packed up his things and left while his boyfriend was out. He got a new phone number, got rid of most of his things (as there were too many memories), and thanked every god that could possibly exist that his boyfriend lived a few hours from Dan’s university.  
Dan told Phil how, ever since the dare at age sixteen, he had been tormented by people about his sexuality. He tried to stuff down his attraction towards guys, and dated many more girls than he was comfortable with. He told Phil how he likes being alone, as in spending time with himself, but hates being alone in the respect of having nobody (or staying home alone). As Dan told Phil this, he had cried. Phil had too. He had hugged Dan so tightly Dan wasn’t sure if he would ever let go, and promised he would never hurt Dan. Phil swore he would protect him as well as he could.  
Phil had briefed over his own demons: his crippling anxiety, his struggles with his own sexuality, his fears of Dan falling out of love with him. Dan was scared he wasn’t great at it, but he comforted Phil the best he could. At around five in the morning, they had ordered pizza and then passed out in Phil’s bed.  
Dan smiles as he takes in Phil’s sleeping figure. He kisses Phil’s forehead before pulling on some of Phil’s clothes and setting a note next to Phil’s glasses, telling him that Dan will be back soon.  
When Dan gets back to the flat, he can smell coffee. He kicks off his shoes and follows the scent to the kitchen. Phil is making toast and sipping coffee from one of his many colorful mugs. Phil turns around at the sound of footsteps.  
“Why’d you leave?” Phil asks, smiling softly with a hint of worry in his eyes. Dan holds up the small plant in his arms. There’s a toothpick in the soil with a copy of one of the photos Phil took on that late night months ago. It’s one with Phil laughing as Dan rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips: Dan doesn’t remember the joke that was told, but he adores the picture. In the corner of the photo, he’d written ‘Dan Howell, sucking at love since 1991.’  
As Phil looks at the plant and the picture, he looks like he’s either going to kiss Dan or break into tears. He just ends up pulling Dan into a tight hug after taking the plant and setting it on the counter.  
The toast and the coffee is quickly forgotten as they both end up laying in Phil’s bed. Dan had kissed Phil, and it quickly turned to a lazy make-out session. Dan spends a while trying to break away, attempting to convince Phil that he needs to brush his teeth, as he hadn’t brushed them since he threw up the previous day.  
Phil argues that it’s not that big of a deal as they have already kissed loads. When Dan still insists, Phil says that he’s had Dan’s dick in his mouth before, so he doesn’t really understand why alcohol breath is a big deal. Dan shoves him off the bed for that comment.  
They talk about going for coffee or dinner or doing something productive, but they never do. They spend all day talking or making out.  
And sure, maybe it’s not all that productive, but it’s certainly not a wasted day.

 

 

“Stop looking at me,” Dan whines, batting Phil’s arm with his hand, not looking up from his paper.  
“I’m not.”  
“I can tell, Phil. Stop looking at me.”  
“What? You’re just writing. That’s hardly intimate!”  
“ I look ugly when I concentrate,” Dan mumbles.  
“You look just like you do when doing anything else.”  
“Thanks,” Dan says, voice full of playful sarcasm.  
“No, no! That’s not what I meant, I didn’t mean that,” Phil trips over his words, looking feverishly for the right ones, “I just mean you’re beautiful all the time.”  
Dan glances up to see that Phil is still looking at him intently.  
“Shut up,” Dan elbows Phil softly in the arm and goes back to working on his essay. He can still feel Phil’s eyes on him, “You’ve got a paper to work on too. And if you don’t work on it too I’m going to get distracted and then procrastinate it.”  
Dan assumes Phil is working, as there is a few minutes of silence before Phil speaks.  
“So, you love me, right?”  
Dan’s eyes quickly shoot up from his paper to Phil’s face. Unfortunately, with the way the Dan is pressed into his side, the top of Dan’s head manages to collide Phil’s chin. There’s a few moments of quiet swearing and reassurances that Phil’s okay before they come back to their conversation.  
“Yeah. Of course I do, why?” Dan face is warm, as this is the first time he’d said it since his admission of feelings two weeks ago. There’s a moment of panic in Dan’s brain, anxiety causing him to assume the worst. Phil’s still rubbing his jaw where Dan’s head hit him.  
“We just never really clarified like— are you ready to be my boyfriend? I’d like to be yours, I just know you’ve been dealing with a lot of shit, and I don’t want to do anything your not—”  
Phil’s cut off by a kiss from Dan.  
“Of course I want to be your boyfriend.”  
“Are you still scared?”  
“A little bit. But are you completely not?”  
“Fair enough,” Phil nods before pressing a kiss to the top of Dan’s head. Dan grins, turning back to the essay in his lap. He leans his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder, taking a refreshing breath before starting to write again. The room is quiet for about ten minutes before Phil interrupts it again.  
“Dan?”  
“Hmm?”  
“ I love you.”  
“I love you too. Now work on your fucking essay, Lester.”

 

 

That night feels so surreal. It’s their first time together since everything became real. And Dan is so fucking happy.

 

 

The next day, as they walk towards class, Dan takes Phil’s hand in his. Phil’s grin emerges, that adorable one where he catches his tongue between his teeth. Dan can feel a smile playing at his own lips. They’ve never held hands outside of Phil’s flat before.  
People can see them. People will know.  
But that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore.

 

 

“Phil, do you ever regret falling in love with me?”  
“What?”  
“Do you ever regret fal—“ Dan starts.  
“Never.”  
“Really?”  
“Couldn’t if I wanted to, Dan.”

 

 

March seems to come quickly.  
School had been stressful, sure. But Dan doesn’t mind it as much.  
He and Phil are on the floor of the bookstore, each slowly sorting through their respective piles. Dan just got off work, and Phil had come straight from class to walk him home. They ended up deciding on looking through books. After about ten minutes of searching, Dan turns to Phil.  
“Phil? Would you be okay if I told my parents about us? I haven’t even come out to them yet, so…” Dan lets his voice trail off. He expects to see shock on Phil’s face but all he finds is a smile.  
“Why are you asking me? You know I already told mine. It’s completely your decision, anyway.”  
“I know, I just don’t know how they’re going to react and you’re the one who has to deal with me.”  
“It’s not dealing with you, Dan. And yeah, of course. Do what’s best for you.” Phil counters, following his sentence with a quick kiss.  
That night, Dan’s holding Phil’s hand tightly, and so close that he’s nearly in Phil’s lap. His hands are shaky as he dials.  
“You can do this, Love. I’m proud of you,” Phil quietly encourages as the phone begins to ring. It rings three times before Dan hears her voice on the other end of the line.  
“Hello?”  
“Hi, Mum.”  
The conversation is long, and Phil holds his hand the entire time. Dan’s crying even after he hangs up the phone, and breathes a sigh of relief through his tears.  
She had said that this made no difference. His dad had even asked “when he could meet this Phil lad.” Dan’s smiling through the sobs and thanking Phil for existing. God, Dan doesn’t usually cry so much, but with the eight months they’ve had, Phil probably has no idea that tearing up this often is uncommon.  
“You’re so amazing, Dan. I love you,” Phil compliments and Dan is so fucking happy, despite the tears. The oxygen in Phil’s apartment is fresh and breathable, and the feeling of Phil’s hand in his is so much cleaner, contrasting the filthy feeling he felt in January. Sure, his past still happened, but it’s gone now. Dan has Phil, his parents, new friends, and even, for the first time in his life, himself.  
Dan thinks he might just like himself.

 

 

This was never the plan.  
The plan was never to wake up next to the carbon black-haired boy with the flaming scarlett button up (which is somewhere in the mess of clothes, notebooks, photography equipment, and books that coat Phil’s floor). Dan pulls the comforter off himself and steps carefully over the clutter. After pulling on one of Phil’s shirts, Dan makes his way towards the door. He’s almost out of the room when he leans down to pick one of his books up off of Phil’s floor, wondering if Phil will clean his disastrous room sometime soon. That’s not to say Dan’s isn’t a mess, especially with exams around the corner, but he figures maybe helping clean Phil’s apartment will motivate him to tidy his dorm. Dan leaves Phil’s room, shutting the door behind him, and goes to sit on the couch. Once he’s comfortable, he cracks open his book.  
It’s not early by any definition of the word, but Dan’s up before Phil (a rare occurrence), so it feels early. They’d been sleeping in the same apartment (whether it was Phil’s flat or Dan’s dorm) since they had come out to Dan’s parents over two months previously, so Phil has grown accustomed to Dan’s ridiculous sleeping habits.  
Dan doesn’t know how long he’s been reading for when he hears the door to Phil’s room creak open. He looks up to see Phil enter the room (who’s still attempting to blink the sleep from his eyes), but a tired grin dances on his lips when he sees the brunette. Dan’s boyfriend crosses the small room to where Dan is curled up, and Phil nudges him over so he can fit on the couch as well. It’s a tight fit as they are both tall as hell, but they make it work. Phil tries to slip his arm around Dan’s shoulders, but ends up getting his arm awkwardly caught half-under Dan, making them both laugh. Eventually, they figure out how to intertwine their limbs in the most comfortable way possible in the small amount of space they have on the couch, and Dan smiles gently when Phil kisses his forehead. Phil buries his face into Dan’s shoulder and takes hold of the hand of Dan’s that isn’t keeping his book open.  
Dan tries to concentrate on the words but can’t help but focus on his boyfriend’s quiet breathing. He can’t ignore how, despite the size of the couch, he and Phil fit so well together. Dan also can’t help but notice how he can hear his own breathing too, and how fucking easy it is to take oxygen into his lungs. Dan can’t push away the feeling that this apartment is home. Just like his leather jacket (which is also somewhere on Phil’s floor). Just like Phil.  
Getting in a relationship was going against the plan, yes.  
Falling in love with Phil? Also not part of the plan.  
Being this goddamn happy was not the plan at all.  
He’s finally breathing easy, despite the obvious failure of his plan. Because, when had Dan’s life ever gone as planned?  
In all honesty, why have a plan when he could have this instead?

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone who wants to know, this story has a happy ending!  
> for anyone who has already finished, i hope you liked it! i put my sweat, blood, and tears into this fic, so i hope it's not terrible. thank you for reading :)  
> and, i know it's cheesy as hell, but i'm going to say it again: remember to breathe easy babes


End file.
